‘This umbrella tires of holding up the rain’

This umbrella tires of holding up the rain
Her waterproof nylon grown thin,
Ribs starting to bend to the wind.
A tired whisper: “let the rain drench you.”
Wind blown sideways like the sky
Asking for directions,
Falling to earth looking for suture
To heal us, our stars and their stories.

This umbrella tires of holding up the rain.
It beseeches me to close it and look up
At the patterns raindrops make falling
Like a web of stars torn apart,
Looking for a new storyteller
To mix the tonic God pours down on us.
“Wrap your arms around me,” she says,
“Let the story fall on its own.”

Umbrella, I tire of holding back rain.
Open me up and let me catch it.
This mystery falling I can no longer solve,
So choose, instead, to break the patterns
Allowing the water to resolve its story
In rivers tumbling like children to the sea.
Holding my collapsing ribs,
Holding frayed skin together,
She accepts the rain inside.

6 thoughts on “‘This umbrella tires of holding up the rain’

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